UC  NRLF 


B    M    STM    7TS 


The  Place,  The  Man  and  The  Book 


Askew 


The  Place,  The  Man  and  The  Book 


The  Place,  The  Man 
and  The  Book 


Sarah  B.  Askew 

Organizer,  New  Jersey  Public  Library  Commission 


»  ». »  »   >  » 


The  H.  W.  Wilson  Company 

White  Plains,  N.  Y.,  and  New  York  City 

1916 


(  \ 


The  Place,  The  Man  and  The  Book 

Separated  from  the  mainland  of  New  Jersey  by  a 
bay  is  a  long,  narrow  strip  of  land,  which  in  the  late 
spring  and  summer  is  the  paradise  of  the  fisherman 
and  pleasure  seeker. 

In  the  winter  time  it  is  a  wind-swept,  wave-beaten, 
storm-ridden  inaccessible  wilderness.  The  only  signs 
of  life  are  in  the  little  fishing  villages,  lighthouses  and 
life-saving  stations.  Way  down  at  the  very  end  of 
the  island,  on  a  little  spit  of  land,  is  a  tiny  hamlet. 
This  little  ''cabbage  patch"  of  houses  bears  the  same 
name  as  the  town  to  whose  skirts  it  clings. 

The  town,  itself,  in  the  summer  time,  is  a  wealthy, 
exclusive  resort ;  in  winter  it  is  a  gaunt,  deserted  vil- 
lage. With  the  leaving  of  the  summer  visitors,  the 
churches  and  schools  used  to  be  closed,  the  trains  are 
cut  ofif  and  the  long  winter  siege  begins.  In  winter, 
visitors  are  most  rare,  for  to  get  there  one  must  take 
a  day's  journey,  change  trains  anywhere  from  seven 
to  ten  times,  wait  in  most  impossible  places,  endure 
cold  and  all  the  ills  traveling  mankind  is  subject  to, 
and  at  last  drive  some  four  miles  in  the  worst  of 
weather. 

The  little  village  so  cut  ofif  has  to  be  a  world  unto 
itself  for  six  months.  On  one  side  of  it  the  ocean 
roars,  storms  and  pounds,  black  and  threatening;  on 
the  other,  not  a  hundred  yards  from  high  tide  level 
on  the  ocean  side,  the  waters  of  the  bay  surge,  fol- 
lowing the  ocean's  every  whim.  The  winter  wind 
blows  across  the  unprotected  land  with  augmented 
fury,  piles  the  clean  white  sand  in  great  hummocks, 

7 

3G9465 


rattles  ^nd  rustles  the  dry  sedge  grass,  which  adds  its 
nioaii  of  protest  to  the  bleak  sounds.  At  the  very 
land's  end  stands  the  lighthouse,  and  in  its  shadow 
the  life-saving  station.  Huddling  near  them,  in  the 
shelter  of  the  hummocks,  are  little  fishermen's  huts — 
tiny,  high-windowed,  low-roofed  affairs,  many  of 
them  roped  down  to  hold  them  against  the  fury  of 
the  storm. 

This  is  the  place. 

Great,  bearded  fishermen,  old  sea  captains,  young 
sailors,  clammers  and  oystermen  who  seem  to  live  in 
oilskins  and  sou'-westers ;  women  dressed  so  much 
like  the  men  you  can't  distinguish  them  at  fifty  yards 
and  who  can  dig  clams,  sail  a  boat,  throw  a  line  or 
do  any  man's  work;  girls  and  boys  growing  up  as 
their  fathers  and  mothers.  They  are  rough,  uncouth, 
blufif,  hearty,  whole-souled  and  as  simple  as  children. 
These  are  the  people  in  outline;  the  sketch  fills  in 
as  we  go  on. 

The  story  of  how  the  library  was  started  and  all 
such  things  as  a  church  and  a  school  were  added  to 
the  village,  is  ''another  story."  But  just  an  outline 
to  make  the  story  clear. 

When  I  first  visited  the  town  the  summer  people 
said  that  to  get  the  "natives"  to  read  was  simply  im- 
possible. ''Why,"  said  one  of  the  Royal  Line  of 
Biddies,  "they  are  simply  the  most  thankless,  degraded 
and  hopeless  set  I  ever  saw.  Wliy,  last  winter  be- 
fore we  went  away,  I  collected  over  a  hundred  of  the 
most  popular  books  I  could  find  from  the  summer 
people,  and  when  I  came  back  this  summer  I  found 
that  not  one  of  them  had  been  read  through.  Why, 
to  think  of  it!  They  would  not  even  read  the  'House 
of  mirth,'  the  'Masquerader'  or  the  'Fighting  chance.' 
Now,  you  know  it  is  hopeless." 

In  spite  of  everything  my  mouth  twitched  at  the 

8 


corners.  Can  you  imagine  one  of  those  old  fishermen 
sitting  before  a  driftwood  fire  on  a  winter's  night 
absorbed  in  the  ''Masquerader,"  while  the  storm  raged 
outside?  I  couldn't.  Nor  could  I  imagine  the  girls 
who  mended  the  nets  and  sailed'  the  boats  poring  over 
the  "Fighting  chance."  She  saw  my  mouth  and  has- 
tened to  add,  "But  there  were  some  serious  books. 
Why,  there  was  even  'Bryce's  American  common- 
wealth' and  'Riis's  Battle  with  the  slum.'  Cap'n  Jed 
said  he  read  four  chapters  in  Bryce's,  just  to  please 
me ;  but  what  do  you  think  he  said  ?  He  said  the 
thing  was  worse  than  the  South  Sea  for  being  full 
of  reefs  and  he  no  sooner  got  ofif  one  than  he  got  on 
another." 

This  time  I  broke  into  a  chuckle.  Cap'n  Jed  w^as 
for  many  years  a  "deep  sea  fisherman,"  and  rose  from 
the  very  lowest  place  in  the  crew  of  a  fishing  smack 
to  own  his  own  boat.  Then  he  was  for  many  years 
Captain  of  the  life-savers,  and  now  is  retired  and 
lives  in  the  old  life-saving  station,  which  the  govern- 
ment abandoned  for  a  new  one  wdien  the  ocean  crept 
up  to  its  very  door.  He  is  six  feet  two  in  his  bare 
feet,  he  says,  and  more  than  broad  accordingly — a 
very  son  of  Anak.  I  could  just  see  him  with  the  book 
clutched  in  both  hands,  his  feet  wide  apart,  his  horn 
spectacles  on  his  nose,  wrestling  with  Bryce. 

However,  blood  will  tell,  for  this  descendant  of 
the  Biddies,  after  looking  at  me  for  a  moment,  broke 
out  into  a  laugh,  too,  and  said,  "Well  go  ahead.  I 
will  give  you  a  building."  The  money  to  refurnish 
and  fix  it  was  subscribed  and  the  building  was  so 
large  and  so  much  money  was  subscribed  that  we  had 
room  for  a  school-room,  a  play-room,  a  pleasure- 
room,  and  a  library-room ;  and,  best  of  all,  sliding  par- 
titions and  chairs,  so  that  the  whole  could  be  thrown 
together  for  a  church  and  a  lecture  room. 

9 


It  seems  strange  to  have  a  play-room  and  a  pleas- 
ure-room. The  play-room  was  for  the  children ;  the 
pleasure-room  for  the  older  folks  to  talk  and  sew  and 
play  games. 

Then  the  money  for  books  was  raised,  and  they 
commissioned  me  to  select  them.  I  had  always  wanted 
to  try  an  experiment,  to  select  a  library  and  with  each 
book  to  have  special  people  in  view  whose  very  names 
I  knew  and  whose  dispositions  and  characters  I  had 
studied,  and  to  try  to  lead  them  from  one  book  to 
another  by  some  connecting  link.  Always  heretofore 
there  had  been  too  many  people  or  too  many  books. 
But  this  time  I  revelled  in  it.  I  got  all  of  the  people 
together,  (There  are  only  175  in  the  little  winter 
town.)  We  gathered  around  the  big  stove  in  the 
library.  We  told  stories,  and  really  and  truly  talked 
of  ships  and  seas  and  many  things.  So  friendly  did 
we  all  get  that  Cap'n  Jed  dubbed  me  "Captain  of  the 
Book  Ship."  Their  stories  of  wrecks  and  dangers 
and  hairbreadth  escapes  were  absorbing.  Their 
whims,  beliefs  and  bits  of  unexpected  lore  of  the 
heavens  above,  the  earth  beneath,  and  the  waters  un- 
der the  earth,  were  delightful  and  surprising.  I  found 
that  these  simple  people,  shut  up  there  for  so  long 
each  year,  had  a  depth  of  mind  and  reasoning  powers 
and  a  quaint,  poetical  and  mystical  strain  far  beyond 
most  people  you  meet  in  what  we  call  "civilization." 

In  this  way  I  got  to  know  them  and  I  thought  I 
saw  the  trouble  with  the  books  the  year  before.  Down 
there  in  the  winter,  where  nature  is  so  big  and  the 
isolation  so  complete,  and  life  so  simple,  the  problems 
that  come  from  an  overheated  artificial  life  would  not 
touch  them  at  all.  How  could  such  a  woman  as  Lily 
Bart,  such  a  man  as  John  Chilcote,  interest  them? 
Their  struggles  and  trials  would  seem  unreal  and  un- 
necessary.    Bryce    they    did    not    understand.     The 


10 


slums  they  did  not  know  and  could  not  comprehend ; 
therefore  "The  battle"  lacked  interest.  Primal  things, 
the  man-to-man  fight,  primitive  natures,  people  of  un- 
complex  minds,  folk-lore,  nature,  the  supernatural, 
myths  and  the  mystical,  and,  it  seemed  to  me,  even 
Dickens,  with  his  trick  of  making  a  person  stand  for 
one  characteristic,  would  appeal  to  them. 

When  I  had  my  books  collected  I  went  down  to 
organize  my  library.  This  did  not  mean  to  catalog 
it.  I  meant  to  go  over  my  books  again  and  suit  them 
to  the  people  for  whom  I  had  bought  them.  Each 
book  I  had  tried  to  have  touch  their  lives  somewhere. 
There  were  books  on  the  stars  that  glittered  in  the 
wind-swept  sky;  there  were  books  on  the  marvels  un- 
der the  stormy  waters ;  there  were  books  about  the 
men  who  had  sailed  the  ocean  they  knew  so  well; 
there  were  books  about  the  lands  visited  by  the  ships 
they  watched  slip  over  the  horizon ;  and  books  about 
men  of  might  and  valor;  and  books  of  poetry  and 
quaint  legends  and  myths.     These  were  the  books. 

I  did  a  great  deal  of  cross  referencing  by  means 
of  lists  and  notes  pasted  in  the  backs  of  books  calling 
attention  to  other  books.  Just  what  this  was  I  will 
let  my  story  show.  The  habit  of  giving  a  prologue 
which  the  story  explains,  has  come  to  me  from  Sarah 
Grand,  and  perhaps  Mary  Cecil  Hay.  "A  white  face 
looks  from  the  window,"  says  the  opening  paragraph.. 
"A  sweet  voice  calls  'help.'  Ah  !  doom  of  Lady  Evelyn, 
the  ill-fated  bride  of  six  seconds."  The  explanation 
of  this  scene,  which  is  given  on  the  next  to  the  last 
page  in  the  book,  is  that  the  said  ill-fated  bride  has  sent 
the  bridegroom  back  for  her  grand  coronet  blazing 
with  seventeen  diamonds,  thirty-two  rubies  and  divers 
lesser  and  yet  precious  stones.  And  "He  hath  not 
came,  and  the  train  doth  start,"  she  cries. 

When   the   books   were   all   arranged   we   gave   a 

II 


party  to  open  the  library.  Everybody  in  town  was 
there — in  fact  there  were  176  people  there.  Old  Cap'n 
Jed  said  "Cap'n,  I  caught  a  coast  guard  and  brung 
him  in."  Cap'n  Jed  was  the  president  of  the  library 
board  and  general  adviser  plenipotentiary  to  the  town. 
His  speech  was  something  like  this.  "Gentlemen  and 
all  the  rest  of  you  and  the  ladies :  It  seems  to  me  that 
the  Cap'n  here's  got  her  ship  purty  well  in  trim  for 
a  trial  run ;  and  if  all  on  board  is  agreeable  let's  push 
her  off  with  three  cheers  for  the  Cap'n,  her  ship  and 
her  freight — 'er  meanin'  these  here  books.  Now  for 
a  speech  from     Cap'n  an'  sailin'  orders." 

I  told  them  the  books  were  theirs  and  what  I  wanted 
them  to  do  with  them,  and  how  I  hoped  they  would 
like  them.  Then,  to  try  a  little  plan  and  see  whether 
I  had  judged  them  rightly,  I  told  them  Dickens's 
"Child's  dream  of  a  star."  The  picture  I  will  never 
forget.  It  was  wonderful  and  pathetic.  The  place 
was  lit  with  kerosene  lamps  that  threw  great  shadows ; 
the  fire  glowed  in  the  stove ;  the  little  children  sat  on 
the  floor  at  my  feet;  the  older  folks  back  of  them, 
and  the  storm  beat  outside.  The  people  pressed  close 
to  hear  the  story.  Men,  women  and  children  listened 
breathlessly,  great  eyes  fixed  on  my  face,  and  tears, 
streaming  down  many  of  their  rough,  weather-beaten 
cheeks.  At  the  end,  for  awhile,  silence  held.  Then 
with  a  deep  breath,  "That  sho'  is  purty,"  says  old  Cap'n 
Jed.  The  rest  nodded  and  wiped  their  faces  with  their 
red  handkerchiefs,  like  a  man  after  a  long  pull. 

I  gave  out  the  books  that  night  myself,  and  told 
them  a  little  of  the  men  who  wrote  them  and  the  men 
who  lived  them.  The  lives  of  Captain  Kidd,  Sir  Fran- 
cis Drake,  Hale's  "Stories  of  the  sea,"  Stevenson's 
"Kidnapped"  and  "Master  of  Ballantrae"  and  "Treas- 
ure Island,"  Ingersoll's  "Book  of  the  ocean,"  Towle's 
"Magellan  and  the  journey  of  Marco  Polo,"  Scott's 

12 


"Pirate,"  Ball's  ''Starland,"  Kipling's  "Captains  Cour- 
ageous," Frothingham's  "Sea  fighters  from  Drake  to 
Farragut,"  and  Verne's  "Wonderful  tales"  I  knew 
would  succeed.  Then  I  had  some  for  an  experiment : 
Saintine's  "Picciola,"  Repplier's  "Book  of  famous 
verse,"  Spencer's  "Una  and  the  Red  Cross  Knight," 
Dickens's  "Our  mutual  friend,"  Scott's  "Ivanhoe" 
and  "Rob  Roy,"  Barrie's  "Little  minister,"  Black- 
more's  "Lorna  Doone,"  Guerber's  "Legends  of  tlie 
middle  ages,"  Dickens's  "Oliver  Twist,"  Homer's 
"Odyssey,"  by  Butcher  and  Lang,  Lummis's  "Some 
strange  corners  of  our  country,"  Harris's  "Nights 
with  Uncle  Remus." 

These  Avere  only  a  few  among  the  experiments, 
but  were  the  ones  I  watched  most,  to  see  if  there  was 
really  the  vein  in  them  I  thought  there  was,  that 
would  touch  these  lives.  I  did  not  turn  these  books 
over  to  them  without  comment  but  tried,  by  relating 
an  incident  here,  quoting  a  bit  of  poetry  there,  telling 
of  a  hero  here,  to  catch  their  interest.  In  many  of 
the  books  I  had  pasted  slips  telling  of  other  books. 
Then  I  promised  to  come  back  in  the  spring  and  hear 
what  they  thought  of  the  books  and  what  books  they 
had  read. 

To  make  the  results  shown  and  the  criticisms 
made  at  this  meeting  mean  more  to  you  I  am  going 
to  give  the  setting  for  the  meeting,  although  you  must 
pardon  my  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Laura  Jean 
Libby,  who  always  has  the  soft  spring  wind  to  ripple 
the  carpet  of  violets  when  her  hero  proposes  and  the 
storm  to  lash  the  trees  to  fury  when  the  heroine  re- 
turns to  press  her  wan  face  to  the  cold  stone  doorstep 
of  her  paternal  ancestors'  brownstone  house. 

In  going  to  my  little  hamlet,  if  you  cross  the  bay 
in  a  boat  from  another  little  town  on  the  mainland 
right  opposite,  you  can  make  a  trip  in  twenty  minutes 

13 


which  takes  two  and  one  half  hours  by  rail,  as  the 
only  train  must  go  up  the  bay  to  cross  and  down 
again.  So  the  arrangement  was  made  that  when  I 
wanted  to  leave  the  little  mainland  town  I  was  to  get 
the  captain  of  the  life  saving  station  on  that  side  to 
signal  across.  On  the  given  day  the  clouds  began  to 
hang  low  on  the  horizon  and  the  sea  to  turn  a  cold 
gray  and  give  that  little  ceaseless  moan  that  presages 
a  storm.  They  told  me  not  to  try  it,  but  I  had  prom- 
ised ;  so  we  ran  up  the  signals  and  across  came  Cap'n 
Jed  in  his  little  ''sneak-boat."  A  "sneak-boat"  is 
something  like  a  canoe  with  a  sail.  It  is  covered  over, 
all  except  just  room  to  get  in.  I  was  put  into  a 
"slicker"  and  a  "sou'-wester"  covered  my  head  and 
neck  and  I  was  then  buttoned  into  the  oilskins  that 
cover  the  boat. 

Says  Cap'n  Jed,  "Should  anything  ever  happen  to 
you  in  one  of  these  things  first  thing  you  do  unbutton 
the  oilskins."  Reassuring,  was  it  not?  The  sail 
across  was  fine,  wind  and  salt  spray  in  your  face  mak- 
ing your  blood  dance  and  breath  come  fast  in  joy  of 
living. 

I  slept  that  night  at  Cap'n  Jed's  little  house.  In 
the  best  of  weather  at  high  tide  it  stands  in  the  water 
on  its  stilted  legs.  That  night  it  was  high  tide  and 
the  easterly  wind  blew  a  gale  and  the  water  rolled  and 
thundered  around  and  under  the  house  and  the  wind 
raged  and  tore  the  windows  almost  from  their  fasten- 
ings. It  was  glorious.  The  next  day,  in  sou'-wester 
and  slicker  and  top  boots  I  visited ;  and  Oh !  the  tales 
the  storm  brought  to  memory. 

They  would  hand  me  the  finest  wine  and  say  cas- 
ually: "That  come  ofifer  the  ship  wrecked  here  in  1903. 
The  beach  was  strewed  with  wine  casks  and  redwood 
from  the  Inlet  to  here.  We  took  it  and  put  it  in  the 
cellars  of  the  summer  houses  when  them  government 

14 


fellows  come  clown.  1  tell  you  it  takes  a  smart  'un 
to  ketch  us."  Or,  "This  here  salmon  come  offer  such 
and  such  er  ship,  etc." 

The  storm  lifted  that  night  and  they  all  came  to 
the  little  library  building.  Men,  women  and  children 
— every  man  Jack  of  them  and  child  and  woman  Jack, 
too.  We  put  the  little  fellows  down  on  the  pallet  in 
the  corner.  The  librarian  showed  me  with  great  pride 
that  since  I  had  been  there  the  472  books  I  had  brought 
had  circulated  1610  times.  There  was  not  a  single 
book  that  had  not  been  taken  out  at  least  once.  The 
favorites  had  been:  Repplier's  "Book  of  famous 
verse,"  Kingsley's  "Westward,  ho!,"  Homer's  "Odys- 
sey," Dickens's  "Our  mutual  friend,"  IngersoU's 
"Book  of  the  ocean,"  Andersen's  "Fairy  tales,"  Har- 
ris's "Uncle  Remus,"  Pyle's  "Jack  Ballister's  for- 
tunes," Spencer's  "Una  and  the  Red  Cross  Knight," 
Tarbell's  "He  knew  Lincoln,"  Verne's  "Twenty  thou- 
sand leagues  under  the  sea,"  "Abbott's  Queen  Eliza- 
beth," Van  Dyke's  "First  Christmas  tree,"  Raspe's 
"Tales  from  the  travels  of  Baron  Munchausen," 
"Stories  from  Wagner,"  Stevenson's  "Treasure  Is- 
land," Scott's  "Talisman,"  Ball's  "Star-land."  The 
order  of  their  popularity  was  as  they  are  listed. 

The  popularity  of  Repplier's  book  was  accounted 
for  partly  by  the  fact  that  in  every  book  that  could  be 
possibly  connected  with  a  poem  I  had  pasted  a  slip 
telling  them  to  look  the  poem  up,  and,  "the  martial 
strains  which  fire  the  blood,  and  fairy  music  ringing 
in  the  ears,  all  these  things  these  people  loved." 

That  day,  visiting  them,  I  heard  them  quote  a  bit 
here  and  a  bit  there  that  showed  they  really  loved  it. 

I  asked  one  old  fisherwoman  why  she  liked  it  and 
she  said,  "Because  when  I  am  'er  mendin'  nets  the 
things  sing  over  in  my  head."  I  found  that  this  book 
worked  two  ways.     The  people  besides  referring  to 

15 


it  to  find  a  poem  about  a  person,  place  or  event  that 
had  interested  them  in  their  reading,  often  had  been 
led  on,  by  the  swing  of  the  verse,  to  read  another 
poem,  then  becoming  interested  in  the  poet's  theme 
had  hunted  up  a  book  on  that  subject  also.  To  facil- 
itate this  we  had  pasted  in  the  back  of  the  Repplier 
volume  a  list  of  books  following  out  or  explaining  the 
half-told  stories  of  the  poems. 

Kingsley's  appeal  is  too  apparent  to  call  for  ex- 
I  kmation,  for,  as  the  young  sailor  said,  "You  just 
fergit  you  are  'er  livin'  here,  but  thinks  you  are  him  'er 
fightin'  the  Spaniards  there."  Surely  this  meant  that 
he  in  spirit  had  sailed  the  Spanish  main  and  fought 
with  the  crew  of  the  gallant  Rose. 

I  found  that  in  hunting  for  books  along  the  same 
lines  and  about  the  same  people  he  had  read  Towle's 
"Drake,  the  sea  king  of  Devon,"  Morris's  "Historical 
tales — Spanish-American,"  Edgar's  "Sea  kings  and 
naval  heroes,"  Abbott's  "Naval  history  of  the  United 
States,"  Frothingham's  "Sea  fighters,"  Hale's  "Stories 
of  the  sea,"  and  Abbott's  "History  of  Elizabeth,"  all 
of  which  were  suggested  in  the  back  of  "Westward, 
ho !"  Of  the  fifteen  people  who  had  read  "Westward, 
ho!"  not  one  had  read  less  than  three  of  the  suggested 
books  also.  The  average  had  read  one  half  of  those 
listed  in  the  back. 

Homer's    "Odyssey,"    with    its    stirring    adventure 

and  the  masterful  cunning  of  Odysseus,  had  greatly 

pleased  them  and  there  were  many  questions  as  to  how 

much  truth  there  was  in  the  story.     The  tale  of  the 

old  blind  poet,  and  how  the  book  had  come  down  the 

ages,  ai)pealed  strongly  to  them.     Especially  did  they 

like  the  old  rhyme, 

Seven  ancient  cities  claimed  the  body  of  Homer  dead, 
Through  which  the  living  Homer  begged  his  daily  bread. 

Of   the    suggested    books    the    average    number    read 

i6 


was  a  little  over  one  half.  Morris's  "Historical  tales: 
Greece"  and  Church's  "Stories  from  Virgil"  had  been 
the  most  popular. 

IngersoU's  "Book  of  the  ocean"  seemed  to  be  so 
far  down  in  the  list  because  the  people  who  took  it 
out  insisted  on  keeping  it  and  reading  it  over  two  or 
three  times  and  arguing  between  themselves  as  to 
whether  the  author  was  right.  The  consensus  of 
opinion  was,  "He  knowed  the  darndest  lot  to  know 
what  he  knowed,  like  he  knowed  it  of  anybody  they 
ever  knowed." 

This  had  led  to  the  reading  of  IngersoU's  other 
books  to  see  what  "the  durn  fellow  did  know,"  besides 
many  books  of  travel  and  nature. 

So  far  as  the  children  were  concerned,  I  found  that 
Andersen's  "Fairy  tales"  had  been  in  the  position  of 
the  Teddy  bear  in  the  story  where  the  little  girl  calls 
up  the  steps,  in  a  mournful  voice,  "Mamma,  Granny 
wants  Ted  when  you  are  through  with  him." 

"Uncle  Remus" — well  I  must  admit  that  they  read 
this  first,  because  Cap'n  Jed  finding  it  was  my  fav- 
orite, would  never  let  it  stay  on  the  shelves,  for  if  it 
was  there  when  anyone  came  in  he'd  make  them  take 
it :  "You  think  we  are  going  to  let  the  Cap'n's  book 
not  be  read  jes'  as  many  times  as  any  uv  the  books." 
I  think,  however,  they  had  caught  a  taste  of  it  them- 
selves, because  they  had  dubbed  one  of  their  number 
"Bre'r  Fox,"  "Cause  he  wuz  so  smart  actin'  an'  was 
always  gittin'  left." 

"Our  mutual  friend"  Cap'n  Jed  had  read  first, 
and  he  had  forced  it  on  his  friends  just  like  he  did 
the  "Cap'n's  book." 

I  was  hopeful,  however,  when  I  found  that  they 
had  really  read  it,  because  you  can  lead  a  horse  to  water 
but  you  can't  make  him  drink.  Cap'n  Jed's  comment 
was  :  "Silas  Wegg  was  sho'  er  pill ;  but  didn't  old  BofTin 

17 


han'  him  er  lemon."  The  summer  visitors  had  left 
their  trail  in  slang. 

Pyle  and  Verne  need  no  explanation.  Verne,  how- 
ever, created  as  heated  a  debate  as  to  the  authenticity 
of  his  facts  as  did  Ingersoll.  They  agreed  that  ''Them 
that  hankered  after  plain  facts  better  stick  to  Inger- 
soll ;  but  for  a  hair  raiser  give  'em  Verne." 

How  strongly  the  little  book  "He  knew  Lincoln" 
had  affected  them  was  voiced  simply  and  pathetically 
by  an  old,  old  man,  who  nodded  his  head  slowly  and 
said,  looking  in  the  fire :  "I  wish  I  had  er  knowed  him 
that  er  way."  The  amount  of  history  and  biography 
this  little  book  had  led  them  to  read  was  wonderful. 
It  had  caused,  directly  and  indirectly,  the  circulation 
of  62  books. 

"Una  and  the  Red  Cross  Knight"  was  a  shot  at 
long  range,  but  it  had  hit  the  mark.  One  old  man 
liked  the  poetry  in  it,  because  it  was  so  full  of  fine, 
strange  words  that  you  could  say  over  and  over  to 
yourself  until  they  made  pictures  for  you.  From  their 
comments  I  could  see  that  the  story,  with  its  weird 
adventures,  uncanny  spirits,  gruesome  apparitions, 
brave  deeds  and  touch  of  old  religion,  had  appealed 
most  powerfully  to  these  grown-up  children.  One  old 
woman,  with  a  fine  belief  in  "once  upon  a  time,"  as- 
sured me  that  these  things  used  to  be.  A  picture  of 
Una  and  the  lion  now  hangs  on  the  librar)'  walls. 

Van  Dyke's  "First  Christmas  tree"  had  taken  a 
wonderful  hold  upon  them.  They  seemed  truly  to 
have  grasped  much  of  the  beauty  and  spirituality  of 
it,  for  when  one  of  them  said,  "After  you  read  it  you 
can  shut  your  eyes  when  the  wind's  blowing  so  hard 
outside  and  it  will  all  come  over  you  again  like  some- 
thing you  saw  once  just  so  beautiful  and  good,  it 
makes  you  want  to  cry."    Was  she  not  trying  to  say 

18 


that  it  was  "an  exquisite  word  picture,  full  of  the  es- 
sence of  spirituality?" 

Munchausen  they  liked  because  he  "was  certainly 
the  biggest  liar  you  ever  hearn  tell  of,  en  then,  besides, 
he  was  such  a  good  liar  you  didn't  know  sometimes 
whether  he  was  lyin'  or  whether  maybe  he  wuz  tellin' 
the  truth,  and  you  wuz  such  a  plain  ijiot  you  didn't 
know  he  wuz  er  tellin'  it."  This  book  had  led  to  the 
circulation  of  36  books  of  travel  and  adventure. 

Their  strain  of  superstition  and  mysticism  had 
found  delight  in  the  "Stories  from  Wagner."  They, 
in  whom  the  fog,  loneliness  and  unfathomable  riddle 
of  the  sea  had  bred  many  strange  beliefs,  revelled  in 
the  spirits  that  rode  the  storm,  the  mysteries  that  rose 
from  the  sea,  the  ghostly  ship  and  her  ghastly  crew. 

Of  the  stories,  however,  "Tristan  and  Isolde," 
"Lohengrin"  and  the  "Mastersingers  of  Nuremburg" 
appealed  to  them  not  at  all.  Stevenson's  "Treasure 
Island"  would  have  stood  higher  in  the  list  if  the  first 
readers  had  not  held  it  so  long  for  re-reading,  for, 

Sailor  tales  and  sailor  tunes, 

Storm,   adventures,   heat   and   cold, 
Schooners,    islands   and  maroons. 

Buccaneers  and  buried  gold, 

Pleased  them  as  they  pleased  the  child  of  old. 

They  sang  for  me  "Fourteen  men  on  a  dead  man's 
chest"  with  a  gusto  and  effect  rather  gruesomely 
realistic. 

Their  view  of  Scott's  "Talisman"  was  most  inter- 
esting; to  a  man  almost  those  who  read  it  dis- 
liked Edith  Plantagenet  and  Berengaria,  and  frankly 
acknowledged  to  skipping  the  parts  about  them  if 
they  could.  "They  was  always  making  trouble,  going 
mooning  around,  dropping  rosebuds,  and  taking  a  man 
away  from  where  he  ought  to  be."     They  liked  Sa- 

19 


ladin  best  of  all  the  men.  "By  jiminy,  he  cut  a  veil  in 
two  while  it  was  er  floatin'  in  the  air.  Anybody  cud 
chop  with  an  axe."  (Alas  for  Richard  Coeur  de 
Lion.)  It  seemed  to  me  that  this  dislike  of  theirs  for 
Scott's  women  was  a  rare  criticism  of  these  rather 
wax-like  heroines. 

Ball's  "Star-land"  had  also  caused  much  discus- 
sion and  nightly  gatherings  on  the  beach  in  clear 
weather  to  prove  the  "gol  dasted  book."  In  the  main 
they  said  he  was  right. 

Now  I  am  going  to  admit  that  there  is  another 
side  to  this  story  of  mine,  just  as  there  is  to  every 
piece  of  tapestry.  The  wrong  side  shows  the  mis- 
takes, the  dropped  stitches  and  the  joining  of  the  col- 
ors. If  you  get  close  you  can  perhaps  find  faults  on 
the  right  side.  I  have  put  the  right  side  of  my  gar- 
ment before  you,  just  as  none  of  you  would  wear  a 
coat  wrong  side  out  in  order  to  discourage  your 
friends  from  buying  one  by  showing  the  alterations 
and  little  devices  to  make  it  fit.  In  fact,  there  is  a 
lining  in  the  coat  to  keep  these  very  things  from  show- 
ing should  the  coat  by  any  chance  become  turned. 
However,  just  as  a  friend  might  take  another  friend 
aside  and  show  him  the  inside  of  his  coat  without  its 
lining,  with  his  devices  and  rough  seams  showing 
plainly,  so  that  the  friend  may  not  become  discouraged 
if  his  own  coat  looks  like  that  before  it  is  lined,  I  am 
going  to  turn  the  story  for  one  moment. 

Some  of  my  472  books,  w^hile  they  had  not  missed 
fire  altogether,  certainly  had  not  hit  the  very  center 
of  the  bull's  eye.  All  of  the  people  had  read  some 
book,  but  a  few  of  them  had  read  only  one,  more  only 
two  or  three.  Some  of  them  who  had  read,  and  with 
enjoyment  perhaps,  could  not  tell  why  they  enjoyed 
them  or  even  why  they  read  them  and  had  forgotten 
the  books.     Some  of  them  liked  only  the  simplest  books. 

20 


Some  of  thcni  liked  a  book  for  a  quality  1  had  not 
sensed  in  it,  and  could  not  find  the  quality  which  I 
liked  and  thought  they  would  like. 

Now  that  you  have  had  a  glimpse  of  the  wrong 
side  I  quickly  turn  the  coat  again. 

I  was  more  than  pleased  with  the  meeting  and  re- 
sult of  my  experiment.  It  certainly  proved  to  my  sat- 
isfaction that  the  great  element  of  success  in  library 
work  is  the  fitting  of  your  books  to  your  people.  And 
to  do  this  you  must  study  your  books  and  your  people, 
both  collectively  and  individually,  one  as  related  to 
the  other.  Then  you  must  study  your  books  as  related 
to  each  other,  so  that  every  one  of  your  collection 
shall  fit  in  together  as  perfectly  as  the  bits  of  marble 
in  a  piece  of  mosaic.  There  need  be  no  sameness,  for 
the  more  diverse  the  bits  of  color  and  shapes  that  go 
to  make  up  a  mosaic  the  more  beautiful  and  valuable 
the  work  is  when  complete.  Then  your  library  as  a 
whole  should  be  constructed  to  fit  your  community, 
just  as  the  mosaic  itself  is  constructed  to  fit  a  special 
place  in  the  building;  and  if  this  is  done  in  the  end 
it  will  fit  in  its  place  perfectly. 

If  you  have  ever  watched  an  artist  constructing 
with  bits  of  cold  stone  a  beautiful  living  picture  you 
know  that  he  works  faithfully  and  carefully  on  the 
pattern  from  the  wrong  side  and  while  he  is  working 
every  inequality,  every  tint  a  little  too  dull  is  apparent 
to  him  as  his  picture  grows,  but  he  works  on  and  on. 
And  even  when  he  finishes  at  last  and  looks  down  at 
the  completed  pattern  he  is  not  discouraged  to  see 
here  a  little  crevice  and  there  a  little  roughness,  an 
open  seam  here,  a  tiny  patch  there  where  the  bit  of 
marble  was  too  small.  Now  he  pours  his  cement  over 
it  and  smoothes  it  into  every  seam,  and  with  faith  puts 
his  work  to  dry.  Next  day  the  pattern  is  turned  and 
the  perfect  whole  is  given  to  view,  needing  only  the 

21 


polishing  of  a  loving  hand  to  make  it  ready  to  slip  in 
place.  So  we  should  work  faithfully  on  our  pattern, 
cement  it  together  with  ourselves,  and  polish  it  with 
human  kindness ;  and  lo !  the  work  slips  into  place 
seemingly  a  perfect  whole. 

A  few  statistics  to  show  what  my  results  actually 
were  from  the  books  considered  above  as  they  were 
annotated.  They  had  led  in  all  to  the  circulation  of 
478  picked  books,  every  one  of  which  had  been  read 
to  some  degree  intelligently.  Of  this  number  58  per 
cent  was  travel,  history  and  biography,  12  was  nature 
and  science,  10  mythology,  literature  and  miscellane- 
ous, and  20  per  cent  fiction.  An  average  of  63  per 
cent  of  the  books  that  were  on  the  lists  in  the  back  of 
other  books  had  been  read  and  there  was  not  a  single 
book  listed  that  had  not  been  read  by  some  one. 

This  was  the  place  and  these  the  men  and  the 
books. 


22 


14  DAY  USE 

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This  book  is^au  ^  ^^^^  ,o^hich  renewed. 

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